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I grocery shop like once every 3 months. Literally. I eat out. It's what I do. I make random trips to Target for necessities like Coke, popcorn and toilet paper, but every now and then, I make the journey to the actual grocery store. Today was one of those days. I was a little zealous having not been in a while and having been cooped up in my house for several days with a wicked cold, so it's not a surprise that there was a little crazy involved.
There were so many bags. TONS of bags. And I forgot I had a ream of paper in my trunk along with another empty box I'm supposed to be mailing something in. But, I got everything in. Including the 24-pack of toilet paper and 3 12-packs of Coke - necessities.
When I got home and opened the trunk, I discovered that the bar that comes down when you close the trunk had punctured a bag. The bag with the pound of sugar in it. And oh yeah, the sugar bag was punctured too and spilling into the trunk. Awesome.
I brought the bag gently into the house and set it on the stove with all the other bags as I always do. I set it down too hard. The sugar poured out. POURED. Into a large mound in the center of the stove. No matter what I did, the bag continued to pour sugar out of it. And really, getting that sugar off the stove? Yeah. That was easy. I finally got the bag wrangled and let it dump into a separate container while I attempted to remove the mounds - yes, plural - of sugar from the stove. It was just a treat, and not of the good kind. Then, I unleashed the Roomba to evict all the sugar that inevitably ended up on the floor.
The half empty bag is still sitting on the counter because the first container is now full. I could hunt down another container, but I'm just not in the mood. And really, I didn't even NEED the sugar. I had some that I didn't realize I had.
This is why I eat out. Shopping and dealing with groceries is just far too involved for my life.
Okay, so a friend mentioned a dream to me today and said in passing that she should have it analyzed. So naturally, I turned to the genius of the Internet and decided to analyze my own crazy Vegas dream through the wisdom of the Dream Dictionary...enjoy!
Elevator - so what does it mean when they are just sitting there? Anyone?
- To dream that you are ascending in an elevator, suggests that you will quickly rise to status and wealth. You may have risen to a higher level of consciousness and are looking at the world from an elevated viewpoint. Descending in an elevator, suggests that you are being grounded or coming back down to reality. It also signifies setbacks and misfortunes.
- The up and down action of the elevator represents the ups and downs of your life. It also symbolizes emotions and thoughts that are emerging out of and submerging into your subconscious. Alternatively, the dream may have sexual connotations.
- To dream that the elevator is out of order or that it is not letting you off, symbolizes that your emotions have gotten out of control. It may be a reflection of your life or your career. You are feeling stuck in some aspect of your life, whether it is your career, relationship, etc.
Girls - okay, this seems reasonable, I mean, I AM 15 after all...
- To see a girl in your dream, represents your playful, innocent, and childlike nature. Perhaps you are behaving immaturely in some situation. Alternatively, a girl represents the feminine qualities of your character.
Shopping - color me intrigued...
- To dream that you are shopping, indicates your needs and desires. It also represents opportunities that you come across in life. Consider what you are shopping for and what needs you are try to fulfill. In particular, to dream that you are shopping for food and groceries, signifies your hidden attempt to buy the attention of others.
- To dream that you cannot find what you are shopping for, suggests that you are trying to find a solution to some life problem.
Box - okay, these are starting to freak me out a bit...
- To see a box in your dream, signifies your instinctual nature and destructive impulses. Alternatively, you may be trying to preserve and protect some aspect of yourself. The box may also symbolize your limitations and restrictions. Consider the pun of "being boxed in".
- To dream that you are opening a box, indicates that you are being revealed something about yourself that were once hidden. It symbolizes self discovery. Consider your feelings as you open the box. If opening the box fills you will fear, you may be uncovering aspects of yourself that cause you to feel anxious.
Baby - so if the baby's riding around in a jeep?
- To see a baby in your dream, signifies innocence, warmth and new beginnings. Babies symbolize something in your own inner nature that is pure, vulnerable, helpless and/or uncorrupted. If you find a baby in your dream, then it suggests that you have acknowledged your hidden potential. If you dream that you forgot you had a baby, then it suggests that you are trying hide your own vulnerabilities; You do not want to let others know of your weaknesses.
Bacon - I love the first part...bacon = essential...oh yes...
- To see bacon in your dream, symbolizes essentials, staples, and life's supply. It may also be a play on the common phase "bring home the bacon" to refer earning a living.
So, at the end of the day, my conclusion is the same...I'm completely cracked!!
I really can't adequately describe the crazy dream I just woke up from...I'll just share some of the images...
When the dream began, or at least what I remember happening first, I was at Oracle, working on Oracle things, with Oracle people. And there were a lot of elevators.
And then I was outside and getting in a line of 12 or 13 girls, the 13th apparently being important; some were the 13th girl's friends, some were pulled in from various sorority houses nearby. That's right. Sorority houses.
Next, I was in a store that sold lots of little figurine type things, and I was looking for something for my mom, something with a cactus on it. Why? Exactly. I'm not exaggerating when I say there were millions of things in this store. MILLIONS. I asked a clerk for assistance and she took me to another room where she proceeded to move a ginormous stuffed something in order to get to what she wanted to show me: a box with a cactus on it that sort of flipped upside down, and apparently, gave off different scents. I sniffed and only smelled wood. She was insistent that each side held a different scent. I don't think I bought the box.
Right before I woke up, I was driving around in a jeep, and there was a baby in it. And then we were by my church, sort of. I saw our worship director going into the building, that's the only reason I know it was my church.
And then, someone walked toward me with a slab of bacon and showed me a very odd tattoo which led me to get excited. Apparently this tattoo, which to me looked like two thirds of a triangle was supposed to indicate that my hometown was now represented.
I couldn't make this stuff up people!
I guess that's what I get for waking up in Vegas...and man, I seriously need some bacon now!
So, here's how I spent my Friday evening...oh yeah, I'm crazy...but, I'm the winner, so whatev! Thanks @hodgesmusic!! That's David Hodges for the uneducated.
The dream I just woke up from contained a snake, some sort of mini lochness type snake thing with a giant head and a skunk.
In addition, a former co-worker that I always liked barged into my office with a big 'tude not wanting to help me with anything but wanting my organizational diagrams which I informed her I'd done myself since no one else could possibly do anything.
Plus I lived in a total hole...tiny and icky...and said creatures from above were loitering on the back porch which looked like it hadn't been dealt with for about 27 years.
I don't get too many 8-legged creatures in my house. Thank you double pane windows. However, recently, there were two such creatures, and they had to be defeated. On both occasions, I was tired. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with this sort of scene.
One, in my bedroom, jumped from the wall to the floor, then scurried under the bed. Neat. After I climbed back down from the ceiling fan blade I had jumped to when he appeared, I tried to find him. I put on shoes, and attempted to step on him. He was too fast. And my shoes were weak and sad. On prior situations such as this, I have plugged in the big vacuum cleaner, attached the hose, and sucked the evil things up. But that was downstairs. And I was upstairs. My first attempt was to get the hand held vac I use for the stairs. No. Again, he was too fast. Then, I decided to try something new and interesting. I went downstairs and got Roomba (much easier to carry up than the big vac). I turned Roomba on, closed all appropriate doors, and let him chase the creature. It was a sight to behold. But Roomba clearly didn't understand that my mission was not to clean, but to kill. I had to keep redirecting it. It was ridiculous at so many levels, but I was not going to be defeated. Finally, the creature went into the hall and Roomba had a direct shot.
Roomba 1, 8-legged creature DEAD
Creature number two appeared in my living room and was clearly after my Chipotle chips. I could tell this from across the room. They're good. Who/What wouldn't want some? I spied the creature approaching and swiftly moved from couch to kitchen where I retrieved Roomba. When I returned, the creature was gone. Nowhere to be found. Clearly, he'd heard of the antics upstairs and wanted no part of Roomba's power.
Roomba 2, 8-legged creature BUH-BYE
Okay...just woke up from yet another land-of-the-bizarre dream...one in which I apparently play the flute with Rob Thomas. But, at the end of the day, I don't actually play with him...let us begin...
The dream starts, and I'm helping people set up the stage...and it's weird, because it's people from my athletics department, and it's actually some sort of athletic event, but then, it's also like a church. Whatever.
So, the stage is set, and I'm practicing, and Rob is there, and we're all practicing, and it's really crowded.
All of the sudden, he's asking people for sunglasses because apparently whatever I'm playing is causing him to see these crazy bursts of light and it's hurting him or something. Um, what? And he's very nice about it...like he doesn't even understand why it's happening. But it's also apparently not the first time my flute playing has caused this to happen to him.
Then, someone takes my flute...like they're going to see what's up with it. And it so happens that this person is someone I used to work with at SJSU...and then my friends Dave and JJ are there (also musicians), and my friend Jill (not a musician...but a big fan of Rob)...and they start working on music, and suddenly, I'm just standing there, and my flute, and apparently my phone, are now on top of a piano and I'm really not pleased at all. It's almost like I've been banned from being in their little club.
So, I leave...after fetching my flute and phone from the piano...and having someone tell me that soon I'm going to have to give that phone up because they're taking back all the phones, and I try to tell them that it's not a work phone, but they don't seem to care. I take it anyway, and begin to leave.
** Okay, let the record show, that in real life, there is absolutely no way I would leave the vicinity of Rob Thomas. It just wouldn't happen. **
Anyway...I leave, and it's like I'm in the basement of someone's house...but I go out, and realize, my car is in the parking garage, and I turn to go back in, and it's hours later, and I'm back in the place where we were practicing...although now it's more like a big room, not a stage...and all those people are still in there, and they've been playing and singing all night. And now I'm really bitter...because I missed all of this.
So, I sit down at a table in the back room...because apparently now there are two rooms...and I try to find some paper to write Rob a note...something along the lines of I'm sorry, and I hope he's feeling better...but then, I have laundry, and I start to fold it.
And that's when I woke up...because really, dreaming about folding laundry? That's just not okay.
Not only do I live in My Own Personal Crazy...I dream in it as well.
Turned on the light in the bathroom...started the shower...saw something on the inner wall of the tub...jumped a couple of feet...
Retrieved cup from sink...filled it with water...opened shower door to drown the creature...it had moved...found it...drenched it...
As it made its way to the drain, I discovered that it was, indeed, a moth...
Cue Queen...
Okay...figure this one out...
I just awoke from a crazy dream (imagine that)...where I was in some foreign country...maybe somewhere in South America? I honestly
don't know. But I drove there. Sure. That makes sense. And I was sitting in a cafe with some random friend who also drove there (in real life, I do not know this person). And we're just sitting there, and Scott Bakula pops up. That's right. Quantum Leap Scott Bakula. And he is all chatty and telling me about his failed marriage and just sits down and we hang out for the rest of the dream. And as I'm about to leave, he's all forlorn and wondering how he can contact me. Really?
But wait. There's more. In this same dream...in the same cafe...there's also Debbie Allen. And Betty White. Apparently the name of this cafe is Cafe du Celebrity.
On the way to this cafe...in this random country...I'm driving down a road and there is a HUGE dog. I mean HUGE. Like, he's Clifford the Big Red dog, except he's sort of a rust color. HUGE.
And before that? I was in a friend's house (a real friend, but this was so NOT his real house). And it was just a mess...so unlike him. And it was apparently his birthday, but I missed it, and there were photos just strewn about...some of which I was in, but in all the ones I was in, I was sort of on the edge...in some sort of shadow. I'm sure this means something deep and dark, but really, I think it all just means I'm insane.
Scott Bakula? Really???
So, Trident White...the gum...the one in the pack with the pop out pieces of gum...that's what I chew. Flavor? Peppermint. I've tried the other flavors...just not a big fan. I've also lost interest in the version of the gum where you unwrap the pieces. Too much work. Here's where the "I'm completely cracked" part comes in...
So, you can push the gum holder out from either side...6 pieces per side. And yes, there is a proper order in which the gum should be chewed. 
It shouldn't matter, but for some reason, it does. Basically, my whole thing is, you must finish one side of the pack before starting on the other side. And really, you should push the pieces out in some sort of order...either left to right or top to bottom.
Every now and then, I'll hand someone my pack of gum, rather than just popping out a piece for them myself. And with the exception of my friend Jill, who is just as cracked about this as I am, it never fails that whomever I hand my gum to will pop the gum out of the pack from the wrong side, out of order...totally throwing things off. At that point, I feel like just giving them the whole pack because my brain can't handle the off-balanced-ness of it all.
See? Cracked. Completely cracked.
I can no longer go to the drive through at the McDonald's by my office due to the lameness of the automated drink filler - or maybe it's the lameness of the employees working the window. Whichever. Our relationship is over. I can only go in now.
In theory, the auto drink filler should be a good idea. And for people who don't like ice, maybe it is. But for those of us that want extra ice? Oh no. It just doesn't work. Because either the machine has no button for extra ice, or people don't know how to actually pour soda out and manually put extra ice in. Apparently, it's really hard. Because on my last adventure, when I said (to the person, not the machine), "I wanted extra ice in the Coke please." She said, "I can't do that." ...and then muttered something about the machine. Um, yeah...okay. "Could I get an extra cup of ice then please?" Apparently, "the machine" could handle that.
So now, I go in. And get my own ice.
Automated Drink Filler and Drive Through Personnel? You fail.
Anyone remember that Corey Hart song from the 80s? I wear my sunglasses at night? Always a fave of mine. Today, however, I wear my sunglasses at work because it is seriously so freaking bright in my office. I'm not complaining about the sun, and yes, I could pull the blinds, but that sort of defeats the purpose of having a window, right?
Of course, those of you that know me well know that I really do wear my sunglasses at night...it's how I roll...
I just woke up from a (typical) land-of-the-bizarre dream. In this morning's scenario, my couch and TV, as well as my end table (which I don't actually have), were outside...in some sort of public venue...where there was grass and big tables with chairs. And I was sleeping on my couch, and people moved my TV to watch it while I was snoozing, and when I woke up (in the dream), I moved the couch back to its proper location...next to the mailbox...that's right. The mailbox. But I couldn't figure out how to move the TV or how it got moved in the first place. And then, a parade began to form...which is why there were so many other people around. And then I woke up for real...where I was sleeping on the couch...after falling asleep watching TV.
My brain is cracked!
That's right. The moth that found its way into my house Wednesday night has been evicted. Dismissed. Destroyed.
Seen this morning on Moth-Twitter: Fear the Carrie. Light elsewhere. She is the destroyer. #avoiddestruction
Okay, so, if you haven't done so already, please read my earlier full blog on the moth subject. This saga started in Vegas.
... pausing while you read other post ...
Last night, a moth found its way into my house. Not anywhere near the size of the mothra in Vegas, but dizzying enough to annoy me. At the end of the day, he hid, and I could not find him. I'm sure he's wandering my halls right now laughing. Or, he's possibly using moth-twitter to tell all his little moth friends about me, because one of his cousins just showed up in my office. What??? I have not seen this many moths in one week in years. I'm starting to wonder if they like my shampoo.
Moths, you do not please me. Please, get out.
Why is it that when I sling my purse over my arm while getting out of the car it doesn't stay? Why must it always slide down my arm almost causing me to drop whatever is in my hand (usually a drink of some variety - Coke, Iced Tea, etc.)? And why, oh why, doesn't it listen when I tell it to stay? Seriously. This happens almost every day. And no matter how much discussion I have with my purse before getting out of the car, it fails me.
Obstinate purse. You do not please me.
